A Frosty Journey
by FrostDragon9x
Summary: A modern soldier is stranded in Alagaesia after an interesting experience to say the least, and must figure out what to do, while keeping a deadly curse in check; or is it a blessing? Warnings: Blood, bad language and darkness, with specs of ice, frost, and twisted timelines, all seasoned by irregular updates.
1. Death and Destiny

**Disclaimer: This is fanfiction based on "The Inheritance Cycle", owned by Christopher Paolini, and is also heavily influenced by the Disney movie "Frozen". I do not own either of these titles or any part of their contents, as they are trademarked by their respective owners. The only part in which I have the ownership in are my original characters. This fanfiction is meant strictly for nonprofit enjoyment only.**

**Edit: 23th Jan. updated to 2.3.1; Changed the rifle and modified the memory sequence once again.**

This is my first fic. I would like constructive criticism and even flames are welcome, if they make a bit of sense. Feel free to point out every mistake. Knowledge of "Frozen" is not required but is recommended.

**Warning: Blood, bad language and darkness, with occasional specs of ice, frost, and twisted timelines. And slow, irregular updates.**

The night was cold, very cold, and quiet. I snuck closer to the camp of three bandits, as silently as possible. The sky was lightly clouded and the moon was close to full. The camp was at the edge of a rather dense spruce and pine forest, close to a dirt road. Far behind the forest jagged mountains rose from the ground, with the tallest ones tipped by snow. On the other side of the road a huge plane of grass and shrubs extended as far as my eyes could see, covered lightly in snow.

Earlier this day I had witnessed the bandits ambushing a carriage of a small family; only a father, son and a daughter. The children couldn't be older than 10. The carriage itself was very simple, just a big wooden board with some planks nailed to it sideways on the underside to strengthen it. Obviously, it had wheels, and those things that you attach to the horses. I can't remember what they were called. Anyway, they were moving at a leisurely pace along the dirt road, probably heading to a nearby town for some supplies. I was walking by the tree line, a bit to the side, maybe 200 meters behind them; I did not want my appearance to startle anyone. I doubted that battle dress uniforms were a common sight.

The father was the first one to fall. Three arrows flew, straight and true from the forest. He fell from his front seat on the carriage, looking down to his chest, where the arrows now sprouted from. He let out barely any sound as he slowly fell off sideways, only a slight thump as his body landed on the snowy ground. The children didn't seem to notice at first, as they sat at the rear, gazing into the distance in a trance. Soon they awoke, as the carriage bumped into his body, the left wheel rolling over his legs. They looked to the front of the carriage and froze for a small moment, seeing nothing where their father was supposed to be sitting at. They looked around and saw their father lying sideways on the road, only the shafts of the arrows holding him from turning face-down into the red-stained snow. Immediately they jumped from the carriage and ran to their father, yelling – screaming even - in fright.

I quickly hid behind a medium-sized dark green spruce and watched them from between two frosty branches, my hand curling around the handle of my combat knife. As their attention was devoted to their father, two bandits snuck from the forest. They took their bows and notched their arrows; And in synchronization, fired them deep into the throats of the children. The arrows did not stop there, but kept on flying and sank into the ground , splattering a massive amount blood and pieces of tissues on the ground, painting it red. I did not hear any sound to my hiding spot, which I had taken moments before, as I spied on them from the shadow the tree. The bodies of the family were dragged into the forest and left to rot.

I hadn't reacted, and I was deeply ashamed by the fact. I could have grabbed my rifle and simply shot the bandits. I would not let this scum live. Ammo was precious, and I would not be wasting any .338 rounds on these worms. They would go down by knife, slowly and painfully.

The bandits stopped the horse pulling the carriage, and looted the family's property. They continued their days as normal on the stolen carriages, nibbling on most likely frozen bread and congratulating themselves. The temptation to pull out my rifle was great, but I was resolved to not to. I couldn't really keep up with them while staying hidden, but I was confident that I could track them down. And I did; The tracks left by the carriage were easy to follow. They had stopped for the night at the tree line.

I observed the bandits and their camp. The horse that was pulling the carriage was tied to a pine a few meters away, with the carriage sitting next to them. The bandits were huddling beside a fire, one of them preparing food. They sat silent. Their back bags and thick slabs of cloth laid beside them. All of them had bows and a quiver of arrows. That was the end of the similarities, at least mostly. The first of the three had generic clothing. Brown uncolored leather tunic, and loose grey, probably woolen, pants. His face was slightly rounded. He had brown hair and a strong jaw line. He seemed slightly like a newcomer, sitting a bit farther from the others and looking awkward. The second was dressed in some kind of basic leather armor, brown again. It had small pauldrons, nothing more but a bit of extra leather at the shoulders. It also looked hardened at the chest region. He was much older, probably the oldest of the group, his hair was balding and turning gray. For the pants he had loose leather ones, with a piece of string holding them up, and a small dagger dangling on his side. The third one was obviously the leader. He had a rudimentary, slightly rusted sword lying beside his mattress, without a scabbard. He had a collared chain mail byrnie that was dulled and looked unkempt, riddled with holes of varying sizes, pulled over a dirty white shirt. He also had proper leather boots, with light gray woolen pants His face was hard and he had a white scar on his tanned cheek, extending from his chin upwards and left.

The newcomer stood up and walked towards the forest, quietly saying something about relieving himself. He was coming right towards my hiding place. I was hiding behind a small spruce tree, a bit into the forest. I carefully moved myself closer. As the bandit started to relieve himself, I stepped behind the bandit, into his own foot print to prevent noise. I stood behind the bandit, thinking of what to do to him. I took out my combat knife. "_Aim with the hand, shoot with the mind, kill with a heart like arctic ice._" Lyrics which I heard in a video. The bandit was still oblivious of me. He finished up, raised his pants. The bandit only let out a slight surprised sound that could have been "What?" as I grabbed his mouth from behind, turned him to the side with my left hand, and swung the combat knife as hard as I could. I stabbed down at him from an upwards angle, to his left shoulder, into the small gap between bones, and into his heart. His eyes widened slightly, and he stared me squarely in the eyes. He had gray eyes, like one of mine. And then it was gone. All life was gone, and he became as soulless carcass staring into space. His head fell back and eyes rolled up, and I pulled my knife out of him with a slick sound.

The body hitting the ground caused some noise, mainly shuffling and a crack something breaking. I winced. The two other bandits were starting to get worried, shouting for the newcomer. He was apparently named Aubrey. The two remaining bandit started walking towards the forest, and I started to panic slightly, thinking of what to do. Not holding the first bandit up had been a mistake. Luckily it was rather dark. Moon was covered by light clouds, cutting a part of the light shining down, and making it much easier to hide. Making a quick plan in my head, I quickly grabbed a rock, frosted, smooth and slightly larger than my fist. I aimed at the second bandit with the leather armor and threw the rock as hard as I could with making as little noise as possible. I hit the left side of his face, just skimming , but enough for him to lose his balance. He fell directly into the fire. And he screamed. It was loud beyond imagination, and the tone was unholy. Even with knowing what they had done, I couldn't help but regret. The screaming was an excellent cover for switching positions, and I moved right to get behind the leaders' back. The leader of the group didn't even try to help him; It was probably a wise choice, because if he did, I could've snuck up on him right away. I sneered at him, hidden behind a large pine trunk, disgusted by his behavior.

The screams died down, and the smell of charred flesh, mixed with burnt hair, spread. The leader was now very wary, gazing around, mostly trailing the edge of the forest. I grabbed another rock, a small one, and threw it in a high arc through a hole in the branches as he turned away from me. It landed where I wanted it to, Into the forest, into his field of view. It seems that today is my lucky day. The rock startled some critters, creating additional racket. The leader shouted: "Who goes there?" The shout echoed in the night, critters still moving and making noise. I crept towards the leader from the forest. He wasn't far from the edge, standing with his knees bent, ready to move, next to the fire, with his sword in his right hand. My luck however ran out. Typical. I stepped onto a small branch, hidden by snow. It was almost classic, a branch cracking and attracting attention. He started turning towards me, I started to sprint, and kicked him in the side with the full force of my body behind the kick. He spun around once was thrown onto his back, next to the fire. I grabbed my combat knife, and with my left hand, held him down at stabbed him right in the middle of his throat. The small links of the chain mail covering his neck broke, slowing the knife down only by a fraction as it sank deep into him. This time I didn't make the mistake of looking him in the eyes, and kept my own locked to his neck. He reached for the knife with his hand, trying futilely to do something about the knife in his throat. His head fell. Lying on his back on the ground, half of him was painted in orange, flickering light, and the other half was kept in darkness. His neck was soaked in bright red blood, and so was the snow under him. I pulled my knife from his neck, and examined it. It was of fine make, the handle covered in rubber for a good grip, with the hand guard extending a bit to the both side of the blade. The Blade itself was matte black, seven inches long high-carbon steel coated with Teflon and dripping with steaming blood. It was sharpened on both sides, with a bit of serration on the back. I wiped the blade clean in his pants.

It seemed oddly peaceful. The critters had calmed was beautiful; calm night, moon shining lightly, snow glittering in the cold light. Then my gaze went back to the bodies. No matter how many times I was forced to kill, by whatever or for my country, I always hated it. I can't stand seeing the life slip away from the eyes of my victims, or feeling the recoil of a gun on my shoulder, knowing that the bullet is likely to end another life. Except for now. I had no regrets for ending these persons, who probably had nothing left except for each other, just trying to survive the winter. I grew afraid of myself. "_What am I turning into?"_ My mind set on to clear the last few events from my memories, but instead sunk deeper into them.

I am not originally of this dimension, world, or whatever you like calling it. I was serving in Afghanistan during a terrorist attack as a recon specialist. I have always been branded weird, not being interested in things like dating or clothes. I had few hobbies and only had a very small circle of friends. The rest of friends consisted of guys and a few girls I met online, but had never seen in real life. Eventually went to army, and none of my friends followed, choosing civil service, delaying, simply ending up elsewhere, and one outright refusing. The training was grueling, but I thrived and got stuck in sniper training. So, I ended up with a M98B Barrett .338 on my back and a slightly modified version of the standard desert uniform. My face was also mostly covered by a dark gray balaclava, only my eyes and the area around them remaining uncovered.

As I served in Afghanistan, my primary method of spending, or sometimes wasting, time was driving unmanned aerial vehicles, or UAVs. The rest of my battalion mates started referring to me as "Tactical Wall Hack", testament to the numerous surveillance equipment carried upon the UAVs. It had everything a team could dream of: A camera that could in addition to normal light, also receive Infrared, Night vision, even Ultra-violet. Add a large zoom, laser designator, and on top of those, a motion sensor. Then my orders changed, and I was called to serve as a sniper. That's when I got my first real kills, and first real regrets. Even through the scope, I still saw the faces of the soldiers that I shot and sometimes the faces their squad mates, looking horrified, startled, and once even happy, among others. I hated it, but it had to be done. To save my friends and comrades, I'd do practically anything.

So how did I end up in this primitive country? I got shot, or more like blown apart. The last memory of my time in the city was that of a barrel of a T-72 Main Battle Tank pointing at the window from which I was shooting from. I knew this was it; .338 couldn't do anything to that thing, except for scratching the paint, and I didn't have time to get up. I saw a flash, and nothing. No blackness, whiteness or any other color. Just nothing.

I had woken up in this infernally large plain, still crouched and holding my rifle ready to shoot from a window, as if I hadn't moved at all. I released a slow breath and dropped my rifle. I started shaking and ended up on my butt, sitting. It was rather hard to comprehend what had just happened. I stood up quickly, the ground was freezing cold. Wasn't I just in a boiling hot desert? I grabbed my rifle and slung it to my back. In every single direction was just more and more grass, covered in lightly snow. And to the west, in the distance I could make out the forms of mountains. I set towards them, walking across the plains. Every now and then there'd be a small shrub, or a small iced over puddle. Mostly it was plains. It was boring as hell. But Hell probably isn't that boring with the torture and all. I sank into my thoughts. As I walked towards the mountain range I noticed a forest, just barely. The surface of earth starts curving noticeably away at around 5km, so the forest was likely only a bit farther than 5km away, I thought. I started checking my equipment. I had, like I said, a modified version of the standard kit. I had a Glock 17 strapped to my right leg in an adjustable pistol holster, and an assault backpack strapped onto my back, with the rifle hanging on to the side. In the pack, I had rations for seven days and a shitload of ammo. On my torso I had a vest with multiple pockets holding eight magazines for the sniper, four for the pistol, two fragmentation grenades, two flashbangs, a holster for my knife, and an auxiliary pocket with a map, my radio, compass, GPS and name tags on the Velcro-covered surface. Of course, the 6kgs of SAPI armor plates were included with the vest, bringing the weight to 10Kg. Adding in the pack, the rifle and the pistol, the total weight was closer 25Kg.

The electronics didn't work. This was bad, very very bad. No contact to anyone. I carried on walking, swearing lightly under my breath. Soon I fell into a trance, called "the flow". I thought about my death and how amazingly well I was taking it. How would everyone be back at home? How would my friends feel? Would I ever get so see my computer again? It was surreal,odd. My emotions seemed distant and clouded, unlike normal when my emotions were constantly in the surface, even though covered up. Time passed quickly, and soon it was dusk. The sunset was beautiful as the last rays of light shone from the mountains. I ate some rations and took out a rolled-up mattress. It took me a small forever to fall asleep, but eventually I did.

I woke up in the morning to hear something walking a distance away. I carefully rose up, and peeked over the tall grass. Two people were on horseback, walking along a road that was barely distinguishable from this distance, next to the forest. An old man with balding head, dressed in a blackish leather clothes with a cloak over him, and a young boy, maybe fifteen, with him, dressed in similar gear. Both had a heavy-looking backpack, and the old man had a long package strapped onto his pack. They both also had weapons. The old man had a sword, in a scabbard, hanging from his belt, with only the handle and a bit of the scabbard being visible from under the cloak. The boy had a bow and a quiver of arrows, with a long knife at his side.

The boy was what had caught my attention. He had short brown hair, was young, and holding a floating stone in his hand, his palm shining in the dim morning light like a beacon. "What the hell?" I said very lightly, under my breath. That, if something, was weird. But apparently I said it too loud, as the older man turned to my direction. I ducked slowly, hoping that the grass would hide my silhouette. Luck was on my side, once again, and he continued riding along with the boy. Instead of standing up, and continuing my journey, I began to think. These two reminded me of something. Then, I heard a loud, low, teeth-jarring "THUMP", several times in a rapid succession, getting louder and louder. I took my rifle and raised it to my eye as a makeshift telescope. In the distance, the boy had dismounted his horse and was walking to the side. And then a fucking dragon landed next to him, and he climbed onto a saddle in its back. A big, blue dragon. With a saddle. I fainted.

When I regained consciousness, dusk was already falling. I had to get shelter and probably food soon. The rations weren't going to last forever. I began walking towards the forest, and thought about what I had seen. The stone and the dragon... Inheritance cycle. More specifically, Eragon. So I had died, woken up in a book. Or a movie. Please let it be the book, please...

I snapped out of my memories. I still needed food and shelter, I couldn't get distracted now. So I looted the bandits, as they had the family. They didn't have much, only a small bag of coins, and some bread with strips of meat packed in paper. Still, better than nothing. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with 20 golden, or brass, coins. I resolved to burn that bridge once I come across it, and concentrated on the more important things. The bodies must be disposed of, and I dumped them under a spruce and was done with it. The blood was covered with snow to hide the worst of it. I took one of the mattress, and laid down by the fire, ready to sleep. It was hard to fall asleep as every single sound was magnified, and the howling in the distance didn't sound too good either.

Sleep didn't last long. I woke up, in the middle of the night. The fire was nothing more but a pile of embers, emitting a slight crack every now and then. I threw some wood onto the embers that the bandits had fetched before. I scanned my surrounding, doing slow rotations. A light closing in on my position from the fields. I grabbed my Glock in my right hand and my knife in my left hand. I pointed the gun towards the light, and held he knife under the gun, blade pointing forwards. The light was moving jerkily; speeding up and slowing down, wobbling from side to side. The light split into one large ball, with smaller particles orbiting it. It was now close enough for me to hear a slight, constant tingling noise. "A Spirit", I quietly remarked to myself, and holstered my weapons. It came closer, until it was right in front of me. It shrunk down to a size of a tennis ball, and switched to purple color. The smaller particles of the spirit started spinning around it, and flared out in a firework-like pattern. And then they fell back towards the ground, accelerating, right towards me. "Well fuck." Was all I could say before the particles hit me. It felt kind of nice, and warm. Then the visions assaulted me. The Spirit showed me its life. I could see flashes of life from various instances across ages. I saw **him** growing up in a farm, finding a girl in the annual dance festival, troubles, and other. He had had two children, a boy and a girl. Their mother died at childbirth of the younger girl, and he was devastated. But even with all the things life threw at him, he pushed on. Life went on, until it started throwing arrows at him. Déjà vu. This was the spirit of the father who was shot by bandits.

The visions faded, and reality slowly took place. He was still floating in the same place, and the particles were back, orbiting it - him. I reached out to touch the spirit, lifting my right hand to his side, if he had a side anymore. I was close to touching him and a bolt of lightning snapped out of the orb, and struck my hand. "Okay, I won't touch!" I said quickly, but the damage was apparently done. He retreated a bit, changed to a red color, then back to purple and then to blue. And then he started hurling towards me at an alarming speed. I walked backwards, and stumbled on the rock I threw at the second bandit earlier. I took the impact of falling with my left hand, jarring it, and lifted my open right towards the spirit. It flew right intomy hand, through the glove, and I could feel warmth coursing within my hand, spreading; it actually felt kind of nice. Then it changed. The whole warmth in my right hand, and the side of my chest, switched to ice cold. And then it was burning hot. Then it reached my head. The pain was extreme, and I fell. I was distantly aware of my helmet rolling from my head, and my knees hitting the ground. Everything disappeared.

I could see myself. My life was rolling infront of my eyes, like a movie. I watched myself live from a window, with the spirit particles flowing around, weaving complex patterns and leaving glowing trails in all the colors of a rainbow. The film finally reached current events after rolling through my entire life, and the particles changed to red. I guess the spirit didn't like what it saw; All the scenes of death lingered a bit longer than others. Sharp pain. Blackness swam into my vision, cloaking everything in cold, cold darkness.

The birds were chirping. I slowly opened my eyes, and the world swam into my vision. I quickly got up, and fell down right after to ground, as blackness slowly threatened to envelop my field of view. "Shit…" I muttered under my breath. My heart couldn't keep up with such rapid movement right after waking up, damned low blood pressure. I slowly rose, and sat on my helmet. I closed my eyes, dropped my backpack behind me onto the ground with a thud, rifle clattering beside it, and pulled off my balaclava. My hair covered my eyes, released from the confines of the cloth. I rolled my shoulders and massaged my skull. It was very tender and sensitive. I opened my eyes, only to see white. Why was it white? Sure, the ground was covered by snow, but I wasn't looking at it. And my hair wasn't white. I started panicking and grabbed my aux pocket, hands shaking, and ripped it open. I took my GPS. Even though it had no power, the blank screen could be used as a mirror. My hair was a very pale shade of blonde, almost white. My light gray eyes stared back at me; at least something had stayed as it was. My pale face stared back at me. "Pale..." Were I sick or something? I wiped my face clean with my free gloved hand to get rid of the dirt, dust and ash around my eyes, the area that wasn't covered before by the balaclava. I stared at the glove. It was supposed to be light brown. It had turned white, with the padding on the back of it staying black, even though being slightly frosted over. The left glove was still normal.

I began to lose control. I stood up, knocking my helmet over. My breath hitched, and I was shaking as I stared at the GPS, which was slowly frosting over, hiding my reflection. I dropped it. I lifted my shaking hands before my eyes and slowly removed the gloves. My hands were pale. Not healthily tanned. Ice spread in a circle from my feet. I rolled up my sleeves. Pale. All my anxiety and fear, and everything else that was bottled up since my "death", was released in an uncontrollable blast. Spikes of ice burst hungrily outwards, glittering with blue particles. Freezing winds started to pick up and the sky was being covered in clouds. "The fuck is going on in here!" I shouted in to the heavens, high and clear, startling the nearby animals and sending them darting away. Everything went blank.

As I slowly regained control, and vision, I quickly picked up my gloves and slipped them back on. I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. And Again, and again. "_Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel..._"The storm calmed down with me, and I saw spikes of ice. I turned around only to see more spikes. I grabbed one of them with both hands and tried to break it off, braced myself against the base with my foot and pulled harder, whacked it with the handle of my pistol. No matter how I tried, it didn't even budge. I looked towards the tip of it. Maybe two and a half meters from the ground up was my helmet, impaled on it with the spike going clean through the hard composites. "_I really hope this works._" I thought, grabbed my pistol, covered my face and shot once at the spike. Shards flew everywhere, one of them embedding itself on the padding on the back of my glove. I looked at the ice, and didn't find a single fault in it. On the padding, was a shard of metal. No marks, no cracks or dents could be seen; Just smooth, clear, beautiful, light blue ice. I had trapped myself in an impenetrable cage of deadly sharp, sparkling spikes of ice. The wind was picking up again.

Fuck.


	2. Research, Discovery and Regret

**Updated chapter one to Rw 2, modification 3, made the memory sequence clearer and fixed some grammar.**

**Have you watched "Frozen" yet? If not, then do so. It's the best Disney movie so far, I think.**

******Thank you for the two favorites and alerts. Sadly, no reviews yet.** This chapter came out shorter thank I wanted it to, but oh well.

**(17.3.2014) Rewrite 1, modification 2 of this chapter. I heavily modified the end. **

I had trapped myself in an impenetrable cage of deadly sharp, sparkling spikes of ice. The wind was picking up again. _Oh no no no. Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel._ I relaxed the muscles on my face and closed my eyes while chanting the mantra in my head. Slowly the howling of the wind died down and the snow settled itself on the ground. Seems that the ice is controlled by my emotions to at least some degree. My helmet was speared through, and my pack and rifle were nowhere to be seen. With a loud groan another spike slammed through my helmet. Well that's useless now. I concentrated more, but couldn't keep it controlled. A third spike pierced into the helmet and almost split it apart, cracks spreading from one spike to the next.

I sat in the small space I had and started thinking ways to control the ice. Frozen wind swirled around me, once again carrying snow around as I sat. "Maybe this wouldn't be that hard!" I said aloud as I noticed the wind, and got an idea: could I release constantly in a more controlled way? I stood up. I sighed in relief and once again concentrated on keeping the wind down while still letting the power run it's course. The swirling winds slowed down into slight breezes; all around me, small crackles could be heard as the water in the air snap-froze into small crystals of ice. Maybe this wasn't going to be that easy. How damn cold is it around me? I leaned down and grabbed a blade of grass; It shattered as I tried bending it. Very cold... But I'm not cold at all, even though the ice around me is much stronger than steel, and stuff shatters when bent. Sure, I noticed that it is cold, but it doesn't bother me in the slightest. And with me being practically in summer gear, with nothing to cover my head... Well, it wasn't actually that amazing compared to what just happened, with the ice and all.

So, I have to get out of my "prison" that I created. The ice can't be broken by any means... Or can it? I released my emotions, concentrated on one of the spikes and clutched my hand into a fist, driving my fingers deep into my palm. Two spikes rose from the ground rammed into it, shattered the larger spike in a flurry of shards. Out of reflex I shut my eyes and felt a sting as a shard sliced into my upper cheek. I swiped across the wound with my hand, and the white glove was still mostly clean after; the wound wasn't deep and the bleeding was light. Nothing to worry about. Shattering the spikes wasn't viable as it could have much more serious results, like puncturing my eye. Damn. What now? I couldn't really climb either as there was spike of all lengths everywhere around me and they were sharp like needles. One slip and I would be impaled and dead most probably.

Frustration was starting to show as the wind was picking up, and I kicked my foot into the ground as I muttered angrily under my breath. The blue ice was under my feet too, so the only way out was up. But how? The answer, surprisingly, came from the ice. As I kicked the ground once more, a pillar of ice pushed up under my feet and lifted me up. "Well that's convenient." I said as I wobbled on top of the pillar, arms spread and trying to keep my balance. Once I was up enough, I stomped my foot and the pillar stopped rising. Emotions definitely have a part in controlling it. The ice around wasn't spread as far I thought I would have. The spikes formed a flower-like formation ten meters across; the spikes in the middle rose straight up, and as the spikes got farther away from the center they leaned down more and more. The horse belonging to the family was impaled on multiple spikes, frozen, and was hanging in the air from them. "I didn't know how to ride a horse anyway..." I said sadly as I stared at it as it hung. I would have to be in perfect control of this ice before going anywhere near another human or animal. I looked around. The area was covered in a circle of ice around fifty meters across and the forest was completely frozen with spikes going clean through the nearest trees. The entry was clean, but at the point where the spikes came out of the wood it was splintered and shattered outwards. White frost was covering every branch, needle and leaf. I spotted the from of the wreck of the carriage laying shattered on the ground under the outer spikes, covered in snow.

However the problem from before remained. I was stuck, but this time suspended three meters in the air on top of a pillar of slippery ice. The situation had gone from bad to worse. Since it seems that I can create more than simple spikes with my "powers", maybe I could form a bridge or stairs to get out of here? I waved my hand in a curve along the edges of the spikes. Nothing happened. "Dammit." Let's try again. I closed my eyes and concentrated on a bridge of ice, imagining it rising from the ground, clean and blue, gliding over the spikes and connecting to the pillar I was standing on seamlessly. I once again lifted my hand in an upwards curve towards myself. A ramp of ice rose from the ground with a rushing sound and attached to the side of the pillar with no visible seams, it was exactly as I imagined it being. "Yay!" I whooped in happiness and jumped on the ice, riding it over and out from the "flower". I slid on the ice for a quite a nice distance. I lifted my white-gloved right hand up, still laying on my back, and held it before my eyes; this power was awesome. A star of ice condensed on my hand, clear blue and absolutely beautiful. The center was a perfect hexagon with a thin six-pointed star in the middle. Branches of ice extended from each corner of the hexagon, and from each of them five smaller branches extended to both sides. It was mesmerizing to watch as it sparkled with inner energy. It was perfect. I instantly knew it would not melt for a long, long time. I placed it into the aux pocket of my vest. This damn vest was too useful, even though it was heavy as shit.

Speaking of my vest, where's my pack and rifle? Oh shit, this isn't good. I stood up and began to circle the flower of ice, looking under and in among the spikes, scanning for the pack and the rifle. The pack has all my food and reserve ammo! I have to find it! "Aha!" I shouted as I found the gray pack hanging from one of the lower spikes by one its straps. It was deep in the flower. I imagined a straight, round rod of ice pushing it from behind along the spike and out of the flower. I made a pulling motion with my right hand and held out my left to the tip of the spike, and the pack was pushed smoothly into my arms. I hoisted it onto my back, and almost fell down from the sudden added weight. Now I still have to find the rifle. I dropped the rifle next to the pack so it couldn't be that far away. There was nothing within the spikes. I turned around and there it was, thrown to the edge of the circle of ice. I walked to it, slipping and almost falling down once or twice; my boots weren't made for ice. I grabbed the rifle and inspected it, testing the action. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it. I happily threw it to my back and turned to look at the flower once more. My goddamn helmet was still there, pierced my three spikes. "Oh well, I have to get rid of the excess emotions anyway." I muttered as I lifted my hands and slammed them together with open palms. As I clapped, the entire flower of ice imploded on the helmet, piercing and crushing it to dust, leaving only a tightly packed tower of spiraling spikes in its place.

Then I heard a thud. The cause for the noise was the dead horse which had fallen as the spiked got a new target, and it was now laying on the cold, hard ice. Sadness hit me once again. I had killed three men and an innocent horse for nothing but personal satisfaction - revenge. The bandits were despicable, yes, but I shouldn't have killed. I should have brought them to justice - even though I have no idea how far the nearest "justice" is. What am I turning into? Another mindless killing machine like some of the other soldiers, lost in the smell of gunpowder? No. I wouldn't - I hated killing, absolutely and completely. I will not kill again, not like this. From now on, death is the last resort and petty emotions will not rule my actions.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, killing was a part of me now. I am a soldier, and my hands are forever stained in blood.

I took the bodies of the bandits and the horse, and arranged them into a line. With my heart frozen like the ice I create, I closed their eyes for the last time. I stood back and watched them. Their clothes were stained in blood and the leaders' chain mail shirt was falling apart. I focused my entire being for just this once, and brought my hands from my sides to the top of my head, and brought them down in front of me. Blue ice spread over the bodies, crystal clear, and an engraving appeared on it:

_I wrote your names on the sand ... but the waves washed them away._

_I wrote your names on the sky ... but the wind blew them away._

_I wrote your names on my heart …. but time wiped them away._

_I wrote your names on my ice ... and forever will they stay. _

_To the bandits I foolishly killed out of revenge, know this:_

_I will regret._

Except that only Aubrey's name appeared on top his body; I never knew any of the others'. Regret washed over me and I sat, or more like fell, down, my rifle clattering on the ice. Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back - no use crying over spilled milk. I pulled my knees to my chest and circled my arms over them. I laid my head down on my knees. I stayed in the position until my legs started to cramp, and then finally stood up. I looked up at the sky. The sun was high, so it was close to midday, probably somewhere around ten to eleven o'clock. I wiped the shards of ice from my face. It seems that I cried anyway. I grabbed my rifle. I held the rifle over my shoulder, snapped into a salute and stood silently in attention for one minute. With a heavy heart, I turned away from the grave and began walking towards the sun.

Eragon and Brom had been heading south, so I should probably do so too. I looked back at the scene one last time. The tower of ice spikes was rather majestetic. It would probably melt eventually, but the grave would stay at least until I die, and if everything went as I planned, It would stay there for centuries to come. I shrugged my shoulders and took the direction from the sun and started walking. The snow on the plains was rapidly melting, but a trail of light frost was left behind me, sparkling in the oddly warm winter sun. Even though this day would be weighed heavily by regret, at least it would be a beautiful one.


	3. Good ol' Dirt Road

**Big exams are approaching, so updates are going to slow down. Or maybe I'll speed up; stress is unpredictable, and have a lot of it at the moment.  
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**Am I using too many commas and semicolons?  
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**Thank you for all the favorites and alerts!  
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**I did some investigation on the money system of Alagaesia. Four crowns are apparently worth enough meat to last a week and five crowns are rip-off for crossing a bridge. 200 crowns was the price for two top-notch horses and their equipment, but there was a huge emotional value involved. That, combined with increased value of meat due to the medieval age, I'd say a crown is worth 15 to 20€ in this fic. That's a lot of bread you can buy with that, even with increased prices to compensate.**

**Thanks for every review, alert and favorite.  
**

I walked down the worn dirt road, my spirit sunken. Frost trailed behind me, sparkling in the air and the ground as I walked on towards Teirm. Controlling the ice was getting easier and I could keep it mostly in control while walking. I do get quite a lot of practice as there's not much else to do.

My feet beat the ground in a steady rhythm as the road ended in an intersection. The other three roads heading south, west and east were much more worn than the on leading north which was actually in a rather good condition. The others were riddled with tracks of all shapes and sizes. I could see a deep pass in the massive mountains on my right.

While walking I have given a lot of thought on what happened in Eragon, and where I could be at the moment. The situation was interesting to say the least. Because Eragon was practicing magic, Yazuac was behind us and because he was riding Saphira, Daret was also behind us. The mountains on my right and the pass in them along with my memories of the book lead me into the decision that Teirm was ahead, maybe eighty kilometers away. It had taken Eragon and Brom two days of riding on horseback to get through the woods, and an average horse could travel thirty to fifty kilometers in one day with sustainable speed. It would take me three days of walking to get there, if I'm lucky, and I was already behind Eragon and Brom by at least a day. This was going to suck. A lot.

A slight wind started blowing from the north, and I could see fog on the top of the mountains roiling. I reined in my emotions, and brushed the stray strands of hair from my face behind my ear and resumed walking down the path the west. I miss our vehicles, Armored Personnel Carriers in particular. All those tasty supplies I could have from one of those, especially the chocolate...

Chocolate! I dropped by pack, turned around and practically ripped it open. I'm sure there was a can somewhere in here. "Aha!" I exclaimed as I found the little metal casing. Dark German chocolate. I took out one piece out of the sixteen the can held and popped it in my mouth. It was heavenly. I packed my pack and kept on walking. The chocolate had a lot of caffeine in it, so even one piece would keep me going for quite some time.

The day had been very uneventful and boring, full of a dirt road. Sure, the nature was beautiful and all, but walking with 25kg of equipment on a bad road can be a bit of a bother. At least overheating was not a problem with the ice and all. The sun was setting; I had to reach Teirm and meet Eragon. Or should I? Should I mess with the story? And how was I going to get in the city anyway, dressed as I was? Well, if I fail to get in, at least they would exit the city eventually, so I simply have to wait. And Eragon was going to get out of the city to see Saphira, so I could probably confront him alone if I choose my actions correctly. But then again, he was never truly alone as Saphira was always within reach... What would he think? And my ice probably wasn't going to help. Should I or should I not...

The sun had fallen behind the horizon, and the sky was coated in clouds, slowly cloaking the world in darkness. I walked a bit into the forest, dropped my pack and rifle under a spruce. I sighed in relief as the weight came off my shoulders. I'll leave my armor on, just in case if something comes up; one could never be too careful, especially in a land like this. I rolled out my mattress and settled down against the trunk of the tree, right hand on the grip of my pistol. I though about making a fire but decided against it, I don't want any unnecessary attention. I took out a ration bar and gnawed on it absent-mindedly. I took a couple of mouthfuls of water, emptying the pack. I groaned; I had run out of water. Oh well, I'll just find some in the morning. Does my ice melt into drinkable water? I'll think more in the morning. With the last thought I closed my eyes and dosed off, sleeping rather peacefully until the morning. The bandits didn't haunt my dreams that much, nothing really did after Afghanistan.

I slowly got up, noted that everything around was covered in frost, grabbed my pack and rifle and stumbled to the road through the dark forest. It was still dark and only the first rays of the sun were visible on the very tips of the mountains, slowly moving down the slopes. The snow on them was white and pure, untouched by ski resorts. I stood silently in the road, simply enjoying the beauty of the morning.

Right, enough of that. Water is my first priority. There wasn't any water close by, but if I remember correctly there should be a river not far south. It is a long walk though, and off my route. I'll try the ice first. Now, how shou- Oh wait. Ice. I opened my aux pocket, and took out the star of ice I had created before. I cannot believe I almost forgot about this! It was still in perfect condition, the hexagonal-snowflake-star pattern glowing dimly in the dark morning. The star wasn't as big as I remembered it being; it was only slightly smaller than my palm. I admired the way it glittered with inner light for minute or two. It was truly beautiful.

I touched one of the star's tips and it slipped right through my glove, poking the tip of my index finger. "Sharp." I said as I quickly pulled it out, and placed it back in the pocket. Luckily only the tips of the star were sharp and it didn't slice the pocket open. The ice isn't really a practical solution for this water problem as it takes far too long to melt, and if I filled my pack with ice I wouldn't be able to fill it with water, if I found some. It seems that I'm going to the river anyway. I set out to walk and idly noted that I didn't smell so good either. A wash was also in order.

While walking south in the thinly wooded pass, I noticed a lone deer in the distance, grazing. I swung my Barrett from my back to shoulder and aimed. Distance around 300, almost no wind; easy headshot, instant kill. I took a deep breath, exhaled and prepared to pull the trigger. I stomped on a branch on the forest floor and the doe turned to look at my direction, freezing in place. Safety off. But I could not pull the trigger. I still had a plenty of rations and most of the meat would go to waste anyway. "Humph..." I clicked the safety back on and threw the rifle to my back. The deer bounded away.

The walk wasn't nearly as long as I expected it to be, and I found the river hours before noon. The water was clear and didn't smell. I decided to filter it anyway, one couldn't be too careful. The filter was a pump with silver-impregnated ceramic element in the middle, and two plastic pipes in each end. Put one pipe in the water, the other in the bottle and pump away. Except that I didn't really have a bottle, I had a three liter hydration pack. It's a plastic bag, covered in tan cloth, attached with Velcro into the back of my vest with a long straw extending from it to my shoulder. I could easily just take the straw and drink.

I took off my backpack, laid my rifle next to it. Finally after many, many days of wearing the tan armored vest, I ripped the Velcro straps in the sides open and lifted it off, letting it drop to ground behind me with a thump, pockets upwards. It's hard to describe how good it feels to literally get all the weight off my shoulders; It also felt kind of unsafe, I if I could say so. I removed my mismatched gloves and dropped them to ground next to the vest. Knee pads were next to go. Never go into a battle without knee pads, they are invaluable when laying down or being on your knees behind cover; both of which I had to do a lot as a sniper. I grabbed my balaclava and pulled it off, causing a crackle as static electricity was being released. I reached behind my neck with both hands, opened the bun my hair was in, and swept my hands outwards, freeing my long, now platinum blonde, hair from its confines in an arc behind me. I relaxed my posture, letting it fall and leaned my head back with a sigh of relief. I tilted my head to both sides with a satisfying crack.

I walked to the river and leaned down to look at my reflection. Gray eyes stared back at me from a dirty and worn face, haunted by the ghost of the past. Usually I could be called beautiful, but this was certainly not one of them - I was practically covered in dirt and grime, and on top of those I was sweaty and hadn't washed in a several days. I could even see a bit of blood on the outer corner of my left eye. I glanced around quickly and saw no-one. I tried the water with my hand; it was nice. Cool, but not enough to be cold. I walked to my pack and grabbed a bar of soap from one smaller pocket and walked back to the river. I kicked of my steel-tipped combat boots and lifted my shirt off, laying it on the ground next to the boots. After that I loosened my belt and let my pants fall to the ground with my pistol still attached. Under the tan outerwear was a layer of moisture-wicking underwear. I took them off and folded them on top of the clothes, and finally took off my sports bra and boxers.

One big reason why none of my friends went into the army with me, was that I'm a woman. I was instantly branded weird, and also instantly hit on by my team mates in the army. I'm quite well-endowed even if I say so myself, and the training didn't harm my looks either; others seemed to agree judging by all the attention I was getting. I walked into the river, and the water froze under my feet. Right. I took complete control of the ice, and walked on. After a couple of meters it was deep enough to bathe.

I got back to the shore. I didn't really have a way to dry myself, but the wind and the sun will do the job for me. I stood on the shore, alone. Once I was mostly dry I started dressing myself. My hair still wasn't completely dry so I just let it lay on my back; The wet shirt would dry eventually, and the moisture wouldn't get to my skin thanks to the moisture-wicking layer. I threw my balaclava in my pack as I don't need it right now.

I grabbed my vest and water purifier and sat on a rock on the river bank, put the pipes in place and started filling my water skin on the back of the vest. As I pumped I caught my reflection on the surface of the water. I did look much better now that I was clean. My pale skin and sharp face stared back at me, changed from what it was before. I used to have nice tan and brown hair, but now it was pale all around, even the roots of my hair. The filter was slowly frosting over; water would be freezing cold in the bag.

Once the bag was full, I capped it and put the vest on, securing it in place with Velcro. As I walked to my pack I opened the pump and wiped the ceramic filter with a small square of cloth, closed it again and placed it in my pack. I hefted the pack and my rifle to my pack, shoulders sagging slightly from the sudden weight.

I should get moving towards Teirm. Eragon and Brom would be staying there at least for a week if my memories were correct. If I follow the river I should eventually encounter a lake, and after that follow the river on the opposite side of the lake to the coast. When I reach the coast, I can simply follow It until I reach Teirm. I don't really know if this river is the east or the west river, or if the lake is in front of me, or behind me. I only know that west is the way to go.

I loosely braided my now mostly dry hair and set out to follow the river to west. I reached the pass after two hours of walking and also found the good old' worn dirt road which I had been staring at for hours before. "Well hello again, dirt road." I said, and realized that I was talking to a dirt road. I can practically hear my mental health decaying, and talking to no-one in my head can't be good for it either. I fiddled with the end of my braid as I walked once again on the road, leaving frozen footprint behind.

The day passed slowly as I walked in the lightly wooded pass. The ice was easier and easier to keep in control while I was releasing just a bit, just enough to drop the air temperature around me below freezing. I could keep it completely in control comfortably for maybe three hours, more with excessive concentration. The ice would break free eventually, no matter what. I still couldn't force the ice to melt, and so far the spike of ice I had formed accidentally couple of hours ago was still freezing cold. Luckily the footprints melt shortly after I move away from them.

The night was falling once again, slowly and surely. The skies were as clear as they possibly could be. It was going to be a cold night. I found a nice, dry spot to camp in and idly noted that I had only two days' worth of rations remaining, I hope that they'll last until I reach Teirm. The sun fell behind the mountains and the darkness sank its silky tendrils into the world. I fell asleep thinking about my food supply. I should try hunting. The ice seemed to be very versatile; I could figure something out tomorrow. I stabbed the spike of ice into the ground and laid my mattress in the tree line.

I opened my eyes slowly. The rays of the sun were about a quarter of the way down the mountains. I could see clouds in the west, down the pass; they were probably coming from the sea. I gathered my stuff and set out to walk. I noticed that the spike was still rammed into the ground, surrounded by a circle of frost and snow. It seems that my ice uses the heat around it to keep itself cool. How the hell does that even work? Does it use the heat to freeze itself? Well, that sound kind of weird. Maybe it uses the energy of the heat to push heat away? Does it even use Thermal energy? Or maybe... Yes, this could be it. The ice could use thermal energy around it to slow down the thermal movement of the water molecules! Well, kind of far-fetched but the most probable reason so far.

I pulled the spike out of the ground. It was glowing slightly and I could see small sparks inside it, glittering. If I squint my eyes a bit and look at the spike from the right angle I can see a flow of sorts inside it, barely noticeable.

Oh. Now I get it. The ice 'sucks' the thermal energy around it and stores it inside the crystal formation, like Eragon could store his... Er... calories inside precious stones! The ice then uses that energy to keep itself cooled down, probably by limiting the thermal movement of the molecules it is made out of.

Eragon stored energy in gems by 'reaching' out with his mind, or something like that. The books were so damn vague and my memories weren't that clear. Also, to use magic there was supposed to be a barrier of sort, in the back of ones mind. How do I 'search' my mind anyway? Am I supposed to find this said barrier before being able to store, or remove, energy? Do I even have that barrier? Will removing the energy even cause the ice to melt? Question after another...

Well, I guess I just have to try. I took off the glove in my right hand and held the spike in it, clutched in my fist. "This feels so stupid." I muttered under my breath, closed my eyes and carefully 'reached' for the spike with my mind. This is so stupid. I could feel something cold on the edge there. It was cold, very cold. I touched it with my mind, and encountered it. Cold. I snapped my eyes open, and looked at my hand. Oh. I took off my left glove too, and touched my right hand. My right wrist was freezing cold, and even though doesn't really bother me, it was still worrying. The spike was practically glowing, the crystal forming to be more and more flawless. I could see the edges of the different shards the made up the spike running inside it. That goddamn bastard of a spike had taken the heat from my hand! "No you don't!"

I reached for the spike once more. I concentrated on its being, and encountered it once more. This time I was prepared, and I forcefully drew out the energy in the spike. I could feel the spike disintegrating into thin air. I opened my eyes. "Sublimation..." I said in wonder. That was a rare sight indeed. I jerked in pain. I let go of the disintegrating spike and grabbed my right wrist. It was burning; the skin was angry red. "Ouch!" I yelled in pain and held up my arm, waving it in the air like an idiot. "Goddamn that burns!" Shit, this isn't good at all. Why the fuck did I take all that energy straight into myself? How stupid am I? I quickly created a bracer of ice around my wrist, and sighed in relief as it sucked up the excess heat. Thank god the ice was smart enough not to freeze my arm off.

Now I had a slightly sentient bracer of ice on my arm, which had so much energy in it that it is probably close to indestructible. So, the ice stores thermal energy. Not really smart to pull it straight into myself. And I've been cursing far too much recently. I'll just let it be, for now. I rolled up my sleeve over the bracer and resumed walking.

Few minutes passed by. Shit. I had left a massive spire of ice back in there, right next to the road. Double shit; the spire was probably keeping the area completely frozen for the next forever until I figure out a way to melt it without melting myself at the same time. And someone was bound to find it, probably sooner than later. Make that a triple curse.

As I walked on the worn road, I couldn't help but remember my family and friends, left behind as I died. How did I die anyway? I know that I was shot by a tank, and that T72 use almost exclusively HEAT and HE. But was I shot with or High Explosive shell or a High Explosive Anti-Tank? How much of me was actually left behind? Or, what if it was a rare Armor Piercing round? Probably not... Unknowingly, while sunken in my thoughts I had begun quietly to sing Green Day's song "Boulevard of Dreams", or parts of it at least.

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me

'til then I walk alone

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the border line

Of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines

What's fucked up and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

I walk alone

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me

'til then I walk alone

I opened my aux pocket and took out the star, turning it in my hands while singing. This damn ice...

"Nice singing." I jumped and pulled my pistol while twirling around to point the voice behind me. A young man was behind me, sitting on carriage full of bags with two horses pulling it. How in hell had I not heard that coming? "Please do not startle me." I had almost lost control over the ice, and who know what could've happened. I quickly glanced at the dirt road, and nothing seemed different. However, I could feel that it was completely frozen hard. "Yeah, sorry about that." He said. "Why is a woman as beautiful as you walking alone, and in such strange clothing?" I could feel light blush rising at his compliment, but I figuratively froze it, leaving my face close to emotionless. I answered him: "I'm walking to Teirm to meet two friends." He looked at me weirdly by this. "That's long walk in front of you. At least five days by foot from here." I was slightly shocked "Five days..." I remarked quietly as I stared into empty space trying to put my mind around the fact.

He apparently saw that I was apparently completely shocked. "Hop on, I'll give you a ride." He said and patted the space next to him on the carriage. "I'm delivering a load of grain to Teirm, I have free space and it would be nice to talk to someone for a change. And you'd get to Teirm in three days instead of five." He waved his hand at his cargo and set his hands on his lap, grabbing the reins of the horses. I could go with him. It's a free ride after all, and I doubt he'll try anything with me. If he does, He's, so to say, fucked. One release of a mental block and he'll be spear – No. I swore it. Only in situations when there's no other options. But he will get a damn good scare if tries something.

"Thank you." I placed the star, hidden in my fist, back into the pocket, holstered my pistol and climbed onto the carriage. I set my pack on the floor and my Barrett on the board infront of me, barrel pointing outwards into the forest. We started moving. "So what's that staff?" He asked. How am I going to explain a gun to him? Argh... Well, it does replace a crossbow quite nicely. "It's a very advanced crossbow." I answered. He seemed to be satisfied with the answer, but questions remained unanswered. " Nice to meet you too. I'm Reynard Leonardsson." "Hello. I'm Isa." "No last name?" "No." It was final enough to shut him up. For a while, at least.

We traveled in silence for some time, and I took the opportunity to look at him. He had a pair of dark brown leather boots coming up to his knees. From there on up he had gray pants and a beige tunic, with a dark brown leather belt holding up a dagger on his left side. He had short dark hair and some light stubble on his chin. His jaw was light, but he was rather unremarkable otherwise. He sure didn't hurt any eyes when looked at.

After a while, curiosity got the better of him. "So... Where do you hail from?" Hail? Isn't that a type of snow? "Excuse me?" "Where are you from?" He repeated. Quickly, make something up... "I from far away." I answered in an uncertain tone. Damn, I'm just making it worse. "It isn't common to see a woman travel alone, armed to teeth and in such odd clothing and even more odd weapons." He was getting suspicious, I could feel it. "It might not be normal for you, but for us it is." It was going to be hard to explain modern society to him, if I have to. "Oh, well, yeah. We don't get many travelers where I hail from." "I understand." He's smarter than I though, as he didn't go all medieval on me, yelling about weak women and houses. He seems almost modern in his way of thinking. Weird. We sank into an uncomfortable silence as we rode on towards Teirm.

He's a talkative one too, he apparently just can't keep quiet. "You're a silent one." He remarked off-handedly. I humphed as I was roused from my thoughts. "Tell me about your family." He asked. Family. Well, I am dead so... goddammit. I froze the tears as they threatened to spill and scratched the ice out of the corners of my eyes, and freezed my emotions afterwards. No loosing control over ice. "My family isn't in this world; I walk alone, and mostly only my shadow keeps me company." His face sank. "Oh. I'm sorry." He looked down at hid feet, guilty. "No, it's fine." He brightened up a bit, but the silence fell once again, stronger than before. I decided to break it this time. "Tell me about yourself." "Wha- Okay. I'm just a lowly farmer from the western edge of the Woadark lake, down the river. I have three brothers and two sisters and..." I listened to him ramble on about himself and his family for the rest of the day. How goddamn many aunts and uncles did he have? The entire village he lived in had to be of some relation to him. There was just too many damn people he listed; how did he even remember all them?

We camped for the night in the woods. " We're going to arrive to the edge of these woods tomorrow morning if we rise early. From there on it's mostly downhill until we arrive to large plains. The road is in very bad condition there, as the sea keeps everything warm and wet, even in the winter." He explained. "It also means that we can grow crops almost around the year. We're going to be on the plains for two days at best, three at worst, and then we'll reach Teirm. Would you like some bread?" He was holding up a loaf of bread. "Thank you." I answered and took the loaf. The ground around me was going to be frozen in the morning, so I have to pick the spot I'm going to be sleeping in carefully. The western side of a big birch suits quite nicely as it could be frozen anyway in the morning and the white trunk will conceal the frost, I hope.

I took a drink of water and noted that I was running low. Thankfully, the rivers wasn't far off. "I'm going to fill my water skin." I said at him over my shoulder, and he mumbled tiredly something in return. I walked to the river, pumped the bag full, cleaned the filter and walked back. The poor guy had fallen asleep. I chuckled lightly as I laid down by the birch and dosed off, counting the members of his family in my head. I didn't have to count sheep for a long time.

We rose at dawn. I laid my hand on the ground, took in as much of the ice as I could before burning up, redirected it at the bracer and repeated until no frost crated by me was around. The bracer was actually damn useful. We set off immediately with little words spoken and him ignorant of my ice. I asked a random question about farming to keep him talking. It was rather nice after a week of loneliness, and it helped the time pass by faster.

Now that I think of it, this ice needs a better name. It's not really ice but yet it is ice. Crystallized something... Crystallized dihydrogen monoxide. And that would be water. Nah...

We reached the plains a hour or two before noon, just like he said. The ground was soft and growing healthy green grass and heather. Every rock and branch was covered in moss and lichen, and the landscape was streaked with small streams. "How is everything so green?" I asked, looking at the road slick with mud. "It is winter, yes, but it is mild here. The fog coming from the sea keeps everything fresh and green, like I said yesterday. I like it, but some don't. They think it's depressing and dreary. " He explained, and started rambling on about farming around the year and techniques to go with it. He was a nice guy and all, but just too loud and talkative.

The day went by uneventfully, like so many before it. I really wanted to get to Teirm in time, so I practiced control over the ice by freezing the ground under the wheels of the carriage. It was getting boring in here, but at least this guy keeps talking. He just can't keep his mouth shut if he has the chance to open it. "We're going to reach Teirm tomorrow evening as the road has been in an unusually good condition." Thanks to me, no doubt. "You'll be amazed by the time to the gate! The walls are incredible. Would you like some bread?" He said. "Thank you." I answered and took the bread. I should pay him once we arrive, as I did grab coins from the bandits. I have no idea what they're worth, but I'll give him some. I can probably judge from his expression as I drop the coins into his hands how much is a lot.

And I was starting to have this itch I simply have to scratch. Right under my, so far, indestructible bracer. Maybe this thing isn't so useful after all. It was pumped with energy, and instead of glowing like the spike, it seemed to get more and more durable and even repairs itself. Only thing I managed was to dull my knife, which I then sharpened for a hour. I managed to scratch the bracer with the knife but the scratch vanished shortly after, making my effort to get it off useless. The bracer was skintight, and my hair is frozen inside it, so I couldn't really move it. Damn. One thing I technically could do, is to create a crystal of ice, concentrate both on the crystal and the bracer and transfer the energy from the bracer to the crystal. But hey, I already have the star!

Thankfully Reynard was a heavy sleeper, and didn't waste any time getting asleep either. I took out the star. It was still just like before, unchanged in its beauty. I removed my gloves and stuffed them in my pocket. I laid the star on my right palm and grabbed the bracer with my left. Skin contact made connecting easier. Multitasking was also damn hard when your wrist is itching. Bracer. Star. Pull. Push. Fail. Repeat. Slowly the bracer regained a softer look, and eventually disintegrated. The star on the other hand, became even more beautiful. The sparks floating inside it multiplied and the edges of the general shape became more defined. Blue lines of energy were swirling inside it, ricocheting inside. I scratched my right wrist. Relief washed over me, finally. I settled onto my mattress, took a final look at the star and placed it back into the pocket. I donned my gloves and before I fell asleep, one final thought passed through my head: Why didn't I just use the heat to spread out an aura of cold? That could work. I'll try it once I'm alone.

The following morning was crisp and the sky was mostly clear of clouds. I did the draining and woke up Reynard. "Good morning." I said as I untied the horses and brought them to the carriage. "Morning." He answered quietly and got up to tie the horses. "Reynard?" I asked. "Could you explain the money?" "Aye, It's really simple actually. We only have one kind of coin in here, the crown. It's a rather expensive currency, so smaller trades made as actual trades. One could buy a lot of bread for a crown or two and then trade the bread away." Well that makes things simpler. I have around 20 crowns, which is a good amount according to him. He resumed talking, once again. This guy doesn't cease to amaze me. Does he ever get tired? Well, at least I have a rather good understanding of the map now, and how to preserve food.

Then it hit me, the perfect name for the ice: Mithril. I have always imagined Mithril to be bluish and the ice is blue, or I can create it to be blue. And apparently I can also create ice that becomes more and more durable as it gathers more energy, and is practically indestructible as long as it has enough energy stored inside. The bracer could've probably taken a hit or three, but it had gathered energy for a full night from a quite large area. A sword, for example, will take uncountable continuous strikes in a battle; not to mention a shield. A night's energy wouldn't be enough for anything.

If I were to sink a sword made of my ice in the fire of a dragon I could gather energy incredibly fast, but only Saphira was accessible. She wouldn't be breathing fire until we get to Farthen Dür, and se wouldn't be able to control it properly until Ellesméra. And Glaedr is there, too. But then again, it isn't normal fire, so I don't know... A forge could be another possibility, but what if the ice simply takes in all the heat and freezes the forge? Desert could be the best possibility. I could gather immense amount of energy in the Hadarac desert in a short time thanks to the sun. I could theoretically create an extremely large parabolic mirror to reflect sunlight into a piece of ice in the focus...

"Thinking about something?" Reynard asked. "Yes." I replied shortly. Where was I? Mithril. Does the size of the energy pool depend on the size of the piece? Is there a limit on it? I could try to charge the Star until something happens. But is it made out of the kind of ice that hardens, or what?

Too many questions. I should probably create a new piece just for experimentation, the Star is perfect as it is. A crystal the size of a golf ball would do nicely. Trial and error is my best bet.

"Whatcha thinking about" Goddammit. "Stuff." I relied, annoyed. "Well I'm sorry to disturb you, but we've arrived." I snapped my eyes up. I was shell-shocked and struggled to catch my breath. A smooth white wall over thirty meters high towered above me. It was lined with rectangular holes and I could see soldiers walking on top of the wall. Right in front of us was a massive iron portcullis, guarded by two soldiers. They were looking bored and they held their spears loosely. Right, this is my first real test. And I'm in my goddamn combat armor. Shit.

"Hey Reynard, do you have a cloak?" I asked. "Yeah, I do. Why?" He replied. "I'd like to buy it from you, to cover my 'unusual clothes'. And do you have a strip of cloth so I can also cover up my Barrett?" I asked motioning towards my rifle. I waited nervously for his response. "Okay, but be quick though. The soldiers are preoccupied right now with another trader, but only for so long."

I quickly wrapped my Barrett in a strip of light gray cloth, leaving the sling outside and slung it to my shoulder. I threw on the beige cloak he gave me on top. It matched the color of my uniform quite nicely. "How much do you want for these?" I asked. "Uh... Two crowns, please." I gave him four. "Thank you. You figuratively saved me." I gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him blush. "You have cold lips." He mentioned. "I do? Either that or you're heating up..." He blushed more. I let out a small laugh. He's too easy to tease.

The guard crossed their spears in front of us. "Your names?" one of them asked in a bored tone. Reynard started. "I'm Reynard." Rhe guard turned towards me, leaning on his spear. "I'm Isa, his companion." "Very well, What is your purpose here?" The guard kept on asking. Reynard said: "I'm here to sell this grain." The guard turned to me. I took on a mask on indifference. "I'm here to meet a few buddies." The guard kept on speaking in the same monotone, no doubt for the thousandth time: "We're going to check you cargo for irregularities." The guards did so, and we were free to continue to Teirm.

I jumped off the carriage and turned to Reynard. "Thank you for everything, Reynard." I said thankfully, turned away and started walking. "Always happy to help a traveler in need. Incase you need something more, come find me in the market district!" I waved my hand over my shoulder at him, and froze mid-wave. "Hey Reynard!" I shouted back to him. "Do you know where Jeod, the trader, lives?" "I think he lives at the western edge of the city, next to this wierd shop that deals with herbs! You can't miss the sign!" he aswered. "Thanks!" Herbal shop? That means Angela. And she knows things she shouldn't know – I have to be very careful.

I set out to walk. The houses were dark and unfriendly. Only a tiny amount of light could get in from the small windows that were embedded deep in the stone, like the doors were. As I walked deeper into the city, the streets got wider and lighter, and the houses got taller. In the very middle of the city sat a massive fortress, with a large lighthouse standing tall from it. I kept on going west. The houses became not only taller, but also lighter and more decorative. Nearly everyone in the streets had expensive clothes, and they were walking with dignity. I stopped to the side of the street, feeling very out-of-place in my brown cloak, and said to myself: "So, now what?"

**If you want a sneak peek at imagining my character, Elsa from frozen has the same hair color and I found a nice picture that resembles my character quite nicely, especially the eyes are awesome. Links in profile.**

This chapter is longer than the other two chapters combined, finally got it written. I might change things around a bit though.

No guarantees on the next update, I have no idea when i'll release it.


	4. So, What Now?

**This is rewrite 1, modification 0 of this chapter.**

**21.2.2014: I noticed that I had referred to ice as "Hydrogen dioxide" in ch 3. Stupid me; it's dihydrogen monoxide. Additionally, fixed some spelling and moved some minor lines around.**

**This chapter is a quite a bit on the short side, and I'm sorry for that. I don't have much time to write right now, but I thought that I had to get something out.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and alerts!**

I stood on the sidewalk, leaning heavily to the solid white stone building behind me. My rifle was leaning to the wall next to me. I had unchambered the loaded round earlier to prevent accidents, but I have a think that it won't help much. Accidents are bound to happen if this keeps on going. I could easily keep the ice under complete control for three hours, and longer if I push the limits a bit - when walking in a straight line or sitting, and not doing much else.

Staying in control is much, much harder now that I'm in the city. I have to focus on walking, searching and weaving through the crowd at the same time; not to mention the constant distractions like bumping and yelling. I'm not that bad at multi-tasking, but I have my limits.

The ice seems to be controlled by my concentration first and foremost; the downside is that emotional bursts and surprise tend to distract, breaking it and releasing the ice, if only briefly. That isn't a huge problem; however, the ice builds up strength the longer it is suppressed. When I can't suppress it again after my concentration breaks, everything around me will snap-freeze. That mustn't happen inside the city.

I felt and heard a small crack under my reinforced boot. I shifted slightly. A rock had broken in two. Both its remaining halves were covered in white, clean frost. This isn't good. I quickly pocketed the halves. The first signs of my concentration weakening is are small, unnoticeable objects freezing.

I grabbed my rifle, slung it to my back, checked that my brown, 'new' cloak covers everything and began to walk down the street. I have to get somewhere safer, and get there fast. My every footstep made a hard clunking sound; The soles of my combat boots get harder as they freeze, and from experience I can tell that they're at least ten degrees below zero right now. I turned around for a moment to check that I'm not leaving any frozen footsteps on the street. Thankfully, I wasn't.

Wait a second, this is a seaside city! I can vent into the ocean without care, it's far too massive to freeze over! I took a single running step, and jerked to a sudden stop, stumbling slightly. Wait an another second. If I concentrate on only releasing into the ocean, won't that only fatigue my mind more?

And on top of that, if piece of ice, a.k.a. Mithril, is large enough, it has the capability to suck in heat. So, if a piece of that size enters a body of water, it will freeze it. It probably won't freeze an entire ocean, but only the water in a radius depending on the size of the crystal. I'll have to do some testing in secluded pond or something.

So, what do I know? Generally when the temperature around me drops, water forms frost over surfaces. Those crystals are far too small to have any kind of 'absorbing attribute'. The towering spire by the northern road, on the other side of the mountains? Yeah, that'll absorb heat from quite a large area.

So how large does piece have to be to gain the absorbing ability? Does it depend on the weight or the surface area of a piece? Maybe it depends on the outer measurements? So many questions, far too few answers.

The spike I had formed a couple of days ago had had the absorbing property. It was somewhat smaller than my forearm, and solid with no air bubbles. The star in my pocket was thin and not that wide, only slightly smaller than my palm; it doesn't have any attributes. But thanks to the snowflake-like fractal structure, it has an incredibly large surface-area. Surface area is ruled out. I'm left with weight and outer measurements. The spire has both, and the spike didn't really have either.

So, maybe it's just based on the will of the user? If I consciously create something large, can I simply decide that it won't absorb heat? How about the other way around?

Agh... I have to get out of this city. But I didn't come all the way over here for nothing, or did I? I should try to find Eragon, or maybe Brom; he might be more understanding. I shook myself out of it and resumed searching, only to sink right back into my thoughts.

I could simply go to knock on Jeod's door, but what would I say to him, Eragon and Brom? They would become instantly suspicious when I'm going to try to explain anything to them.

Should I try to talk to Eragon and Brom at all? The 'problems' in here are going to solve themselves, eventually, so I shouldn't interfere too much as I might ruin the plot. Traveling with Eragon is not really an option; he's just too important to mess with. What the hell am I going to do in here?

Going to the Varden isn't really a possibility now either, they'll freak out at my superior technology, not to mention the Mithril. Oh, and the Twins - I won't even get in without letting them into my mind. I'd like to keep my knowledge for myself. And the Twins will report everything straight to Galbatorix. Who knows what he could do with the information I have on chemistry and physics – not to mention nuclear weapons.

Oh my god. Magic. What is mass? Energy.

And what do they use to cast spells? Energy.

Mass to energy conversion.

Great, Now I have to learn to guard my mind to keep that from spreading. Back to the point.

Elves... That might actually be a reasonable option. Except that they reside in the middle of an enchanted forest that eats adventurers for breakfast, dinner and lunch. From what I can recall of the map and Reynard's constant rambling, the only reasonably safe way to get to the elves is to travel through the rivers and lakes in the far east to Silthrim and ask for transport to Ellesméra. Too bad that there's a desert stuck in the middle of the map, lined by the damn forest and the Beor mountains, which in turn means hordes of Urgals. Oh, and slavers.

The Empire? Just no. I'll keep my freedom.

Surda? The Varden are going to get there after a period of time, but is a definite possibility. Probably the best, actually. The twins are going to be gone after the battle in Farthen Dûr. Nasuada will hopefully have to worry about the war to notice me. Hopefully. Then, after somehow winning their trust, I'll just tag along with them and do what I can without changing the plot. But how am I going to get there? Walking is too slow and I don't have enough money to buy a horse, much less a carriage. A boat could a option, depending on the cost of hiring one.

Or should I interfere at all? Nothing is forcing me to do so, but what else can I do? I can't just sit around. Or can I? I could settle down somewhere nice and quiet... No. I can't; not in this age. I want to go home and sit on my computer, sleep in my own bed and see my friends again. I doubt I will be able to, though. Why am I here?

I absent-mindedly scratched my eyes, removing the crystals of ice that had formed there instead of tears. All this thinking isn't good for my concentration.

But then again, I want to see Ellesméra and the Isidar Mithrim. And the Blood-Oath Celebration! I can't miss that. Agh – Looks like I have to travel with Eragon. However, I cannot go with them right now, I'd only slow them down and interfere. To be able to go to Ellesmera, I have to time my arrival to Farthen Dûr precisely after Ajihad has been killed but before Eragon departs, and plan a path with minimal resistance. I only have so much ammo, I can't afford to run into an army of Urgals.

But I can't remember the details of the events clearly enough to even try guessing a time or place for my approach! Looks like I have to go along with Eragon and Brom, interference be damned. I've probably changed the course of history already. If the twins want to get into my mind, they'll have to work, and work hard for it. And then they'll fail.

I took a sharp left, and slammed right into a teenage boy. He fell down on his behind, while I stumbled backwards and took support from the corner on my side. The corner froze with a series of small cracks. Every crevice and dent in the white stone had been filled with ice to make the corner sharp and smooth, and the ice glistened with in the sunlight, already starting to melt.

Sometimes carrying all this stuff around is actually useful, such as now; the extra mass prevented me from getting knocked down. I turned my attention back to the teen.

He has short, brown hair, worn clothes and had a quiver of arrows accompanied with a wooden bow on his back.

"I'm so sorry". I offered my hand to him, and he took it gladly. I pulled him up and took the opportunity to look at him. His face was rather well defined for someone so young; two observant brown eyes stared right back at me. I let go of his hand and took a step back. As he dusted himself off, and said: "No harm done, it was just a bump". He stood up completely. "I'm Erag... - Evan".

I had to keep from laughing. This was just too damn convenient. I had bumped right into the person I was looking for, and he was half a head shorter than I am.

**And that's that. A very short chapter indeed, only having 1658 words.**

**Only two exams left next week, and then I'm free for quite some time. I'll write more then to compensate for this.**


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